Mission Mushrooms
by Frodo Liv3s
Summary: It's a summer's day, and young Frodo and Merry are bored to the extreme. Until they decide to go on a mission...FOR MUSHROOMS!!! Pretty cute. Please, READ AND REVIEW!!!!


Author's Note: Due to peer pressure, I feel obliged to put an Author's Note here. SO here we go: I was reading Fellowship of the Ring, and in the chapter "A Shortcut to Mushrooms" it said something about Frodo used to go steal mushrooms from the Farmer Maggot's crops…Well, I decided to write me a lil' cute story about it. Hope you enjoy!

**Oh, and FRODO AND MERRY ARE LITTLE HOBBITS. I DON'T KNOW WHAT AGE IN HOBBIT YEARS, BUT IN HUMAN YEARS IT'S SOMETHING AROUND 7-9.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings, or any of the characters, places, or things affiliated with it. They belong to whoever owns them now.

        It was a gloriously beautiful day in the middle of summer, completely going to waste. Merry Brandybuck and Frodo Baggins sat underneath a lush, green tree, and listened to the lazy sound of bees buzzing and a brook bubbling. 

        The tweenage hobbits had been sitting under the tree in silence for about three hours now, trying to think of something exciting to do.

        Finally, breaking the silence, Frodo said, "Merry, I'm _really_ bored."

        Merry nodded and looked at Frodo. "Me too. But what's there to do?! I've been thinking all this time. There's nothing interesting."

        "I know. And things that _are_ interesting…well, we aren't exactly allowed to go swimming anymore," Frodo said. "Stupid Pippin. He just _had to bring that frog and your mother's basket of mushrooms, didn't he?"_

        Merry chuckled slightly, remember the incident in the canoe. His laughing was interrupted by a very low rumbling coming from his stomach. He looked up at Frodo.

        "Frodo, I'm hungry."

        "Now that you mention it, I am two. Did we miss a meal?"

        "Elevensies."

        "Well, no_ wonder_, then. Come on, let's go get us something to eat!" Merry suggested, standing up. 

        "I don't feel like going back just yet," Frodo said. "Home is a long way away, and there's going to be many a fly near the marsh in the forest, _which, may I remind you, is the only way home."_

        Merry nodded as his stomach growled again. "I'm _really hungry, though. And I'm really craving nice, fresh, big mushrooms…Straight from the crops."_

        Frodo's mouth began watering at the description of the mushroom. "Where could we get some mushrooms? I want one! No, I want a _bucket of mushrooms!"_

        "I don't _want_ a bucket of mushrooms—"

        Frodo looked at Merry like he was crazy.

        "I _need_ a bucket of mushrooms!"

        Frodo and Merry laughed, only to have their stomachs growl—loudly too.

        "Oh, Merry, I won't be able to make it much longer without mushrooms!" Frodo wailed, clutching his stomach in fake drama.

        Merry thought for a second, then snapped his fingers. "I'VE GOT IT! Frodo, I am pure genius, I tell you…"

        "What is it?!" Frodo said urgently.

        "Farmer Maggot!" Merry said, pointing off down a path. "His crop is closer than home, and the mushrooms are nice and fresh and taste like nothing you've ever tasted before!"

        "Let's do it!"

*      *        *

        Frodo and Merry were on the edge of Farmer Maggot's crop, hiding behind a large rock, hearts pumping with adrenaline. 

        "Are you ready, Frodo?" Merry whispered excitedly.

        Frodo took a deep breath in, and nodded. "Let's go."

        The two young hobbits ran through the crops, through the towering corn stalks that raised ominously above their heads, through the dangerous cabbage field where they had to crawl in order not to be see, through the tomato patches where they hid behind the tall burning red tomato plants growing on thick, rotting wood.

        "Merry!" Frodo whispered enthusiastically. "Look! The mushrooms!"

        A light from above seemed to be cast down upon the mushrooms, all growing in, unlike the rest of the crops, a rather chaotic manner. They seemed to sparkle in the afternoon sun. The fungi were a rich tan color, like no other mushroom the hobbit boys had ever seen.

        Merry breathed in with amazement. "They're…They're beautiful!" He exclaimed. His mouth began to water.

        "Alright," Frodo said, getting ready to run. "On three…One…"

        "Two…"

        "Th—" Frodo was interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

        "What is that?" Merry asked urgently, his eyes wide with fear and anticipation. 

        "A door opening!" Frodo cried (while still managing to whisper.) 

        "Well, who's coming out of it?!" Merry pushed.

        Frodo looked over his shoulder, slowly and nervously. He snapped his head back to look at Merry. "_Farmer Maggot_."

        Merry gasped in terror. The noise was only to be covered up by the ferocious sound of barking dogs, harsh as a lightning bolt, strong as the wind. 

        "Oh, great!" Merry hissed sarcastically. "He's got the dogs—Grip, Fang, and Wolf!"

        Frodo gulped. "Those are the names?" he asked weakly.

        Merry nodded vigorously. "They're vicious things, with a brutal bark and a nasty bite. They could kill us in 5 seconds, I'll bet."

        Frodo's eyes became large. "Well, we have to get out of here!"

        "But _how_?"

        "Isn't there a way to leave the crops?" 

        Merry shook his head and was about to say something, when they heard a threatening sniff behind them. The two Halflings turned slowly around, and saw the most terrifying thing they had ever seen.

        They were face-to-face with a snarling, drooling, growling, furious beast, known as one of Farmer Maggot's dogs, Fang.

        Fang began to bark wildly, and Farmer Maggot yelled, "Oy! Fang! 'Ave you got 'em?" Frodo and Merry heard him begin to run through the crops. They saw a pitchfork sticking up from the corn crops.

        "Merry!" Frodo cried. "We've gotta get out of here, or else we'll be dead!"

        "I know, Frodo, I know! I don't know how to get away!" Merry could think of nothing else they could do. He grabbed a stick, and, out of sheer ignorance and fear, began to beat Fang with it.

        "NO! Merry, don't do that! MERRY! Stop!" Frodo tried to grab his cousin's arm and hold it still, but Merry wouldn't hear of it. He kept on beating Fang.

        Suddenly, two more dogs appeared: Grip and Wolf. Anger and joy glinted in their eyes as they circled around the small children. They seemed as though they might be cackling at their new, naïve prey.

        Merry dropped the stick. He buried his face in his hands and began mumbling, "Frodo, I don't want to die, take them away, Frodo, please. I'm too young…"

        Suddenly, a whistle pierced through the tense air. The dogs immediately stopped in their tracks and sat down.

        And Farmer Maggot's head appeared from behind a large tomato plant.

        His face was that of a young man, limber and strong. His eyes were full of furiousness, his mouth curled up in an almost sadistic smile. He, too, was examining his new prey.

        "What are _you_ doing here?" Farmer Maggot growled at them.

        "N-n-nothing, Sir, if you please, we were just lookin' at your mushrooms, Sir…" Merry stuttered.

        "Yes, Sir, they look mighty tasty, they do, Sir." Frodo added.

        "I'm thinkin'…maybe, you two pests were tryin' to _steal my prize winning mushrooms?" Farmer Maggot snarled, coming closer to them._

        "No, we weren't, Sir, honest," Merry lied.

        "Oh, but what _proof_ do I have?" the farmer faked pity and circled around the boys.

        "Sir, please, we can't give you proof," Frodo pleaded.

        "Well, then, looks like my dogs'll just hafta eat ya!" Farmer Maggot put his fingers up to his mouth to whistle.

        "NO!" Frodo cried in anguish. "Please! Don'!"

        "Aww…poor wittle fings, aren't you…Well, I'll have you know these are MY mushrooms, NOT yours. And you deserve to suffer the consequences." the farmer became dangerously close to whistling.

        Merry's mind was racing. What could he do? What could he do?! There had to be something, something he could say, that could stop the Farmer from killing them.

        "WAIT!" Merry cried. "Wait! My mother knows you. If she knew you had your dogs killed me, or even TRIED to have them kill me, she would have your head!"

        Now it was Maggot's turn to be afraid. Merry's mother was quite a fiery lady. She_ always got her way, no matter what. "W-well, how will she find out? No one will tell her! There's no witnesses!"_

        "Oh, yes there are," Merry stood up and jumped an adrenaline-induced, shockingly high jump over a dog and ran at an incredible speed out of sight.

        Which left Frodo sitting there alone, staring up at Farmer Maggot, shaking. And Farmer Maggot shook right back.

        "Look, Findo—" the farmer began.

        "It's _Frodo_," said the small hobbit.

        "_Frodo—Look, Frodo…I'll let you go…if you promise to make sure Merry _never _tells his mother about this."_

        Frodo nodded, too relieved to speak.

        Then, Maggot got his anger back. "And remember Frodo, if you _ever_ come on to my crops again, I _will have my dogs rip of your head and eat it for their supper."_

        Frodo nodded and quickly got up to run after Merry.

        "_I'm safe," was all Frodo could think. "_I'm going home_." _

*      *        *

        Frodo sat at the table, looking at the plate full of rich, juicy mushroom that was placed in front of him. His mouth watered, and he picked on up and bit slowly into it. The flavor exploded in his mouth, and he smiled.

        He looked across the table, where Farmer Maggot laughed and drank ale plentily. Frodo smiled ironically—Was this really the Farmer he knew over 40 years ago?

        "_Well, a lot has changed since then," Frodo thought, clutching the golden ring that hung around his neck. "_A lot has changed…_" _


End file.
